


The Feeling is Mutual

by GreenGlitchBitch



Series: Good Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Love Confessions, Crowley and Aziraphale are in love!, Crowley has gay panic, Drinking, Good Omens (TV) Spoilers, M/M, Post Amagedidnt, fluff!, not heavy drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22540360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenGlitchBitch/pseuds/GreenGlitchBitch
Summary: It had been an interesting few months, after what the group affectionately called “Armagedidn’t”. Agnes Nutters last prophecy held true. Crowley and Aziraphale had chosen their faces wisely, and Heaven and Hell had left them alone since.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621834
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82





	The Feeling is Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on a Good Omens kick for like, 2 weeks now, and this idea popped into my head! Basically, Crowley and Aziraphale enjoy a nice night in the bookshop, drinking calmly. Crowley asks what love feels like, and things escalate from there! Let me know if you want more Good Omens stuff! This was a lot of fun to write! I tried to make it sound like the book narration, and I tried to get the Crowley and Aziraphale to sound like their TV show counterparts! Hope you enjoyed!

It had been an interesting few months, after what the group affectionately called “Armagedidn’t”. Agnes Nutters last prophecy held true. Crowley and Aziraphale had chosen their faces wisely, and Heaven and Hell had left them alone since. The pair often visited Tadfield, where Anathema bought Jasmine Cottage from the woman who had rented it to her, before the world almost ended. It had not taken long for Newt to move into the cottage with her. Crowley and Aziraphale stop by for a visit every week, enjoying tea, in Aziraphale’s case, and playing with the Them, in Crowley’s.

The night our story takes place, the angel and the demon were enjoying an evening in at Aziraphale’s bookshop, good food, good wine, good conversation. They’d been drinking relaxedly for at least three hours, and neither of them were completely sober, nor completely drunk. Crowley was lying comfortably on the sofa, head resting on the arm rest, glasses resting on the table in front of him, as Aziraphale sat in the armchair near him. They had been discussing things neither could remember, and a comfortable silence had filled the space around them. Crowley had his eyes closed, and was feeling more content and relaxed than he had in many a millenium.

“Angel?” asked the demon, keeping his eyes closed. A thought popped into his head, as he remembered the first time the pair of them drove into Tadfield.

“Yes, Dear?” the angel replied softly. Crowley opened his eyes, and adjusted himself, so that his chest was pressed against the arm rest, as he crossed his arms, and laid his chin gently on them, over the arm rest. 

“What does love feel like?” he asked, after a moment, looking up at Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked back at him, confused.

“Whatever do you mean, Crowley?” he asked, sounding puzzled, and Crowley found his heart pick up at the angels tone.

“I mean, you’re an angel. You feel love coming from other beings. It’s in your nature, as an ethereal being. What does it feel like?” Crowley asked, turning his head slightly, so the side of his head now rested on his crossed arms. The angel still looked puzzled, just less so.

“Why do you ask, dear boy?” Aziraphale said, noticing that sometime during the night, Crowley had taken his hair down. The demon had been growing it longer in the last few months, and often kept it up during the day. It now reached just below his shoulders, quite like it had in the Garden.

“Well, you know, as a demon, I’m not meant to feel emotions, from myself, or other people. I just, wanted to know what it feels like, being able to feel love radiating off other things” Crowley answered, feeling his cheeks heat up just a little, over having to explain himself. Aziraphale’s eyes filled with sadness and pity, and he gave the other a soft smile.

“Well, it’s not an easy thing to explain. It’s become a very natural, and regular occurrence, after those last 6 thousand or so years. It’s almost like explaining to someone how exactly one breaths” Aziraphale began, and Crowley listened, hanging on to the angels every word. He would never admit it, but he had been wondering this for ages.

“But, I suppose, it feels like, flying. Flying, after ages of being stuck on the ground. When you finally get up into the air, and you feel your heart follow every wing stroke, every swoop, every dive. It’s the rush of adrenaline you feel, the moment your wings open, and pick you up, high into the air, after the dive off a deep cliff. The way your heartbeat quickens, when you feel the perspiration of the clouds on your hand, as you reach up and touch them. It heats your whole body, just as the sun does. From so high up, nothing to shade you from it’s warming rays. You wish you never had to come down, to never stop feeling that way” the angel finished, and smiled warmly, lost in distant memory, both the angel and the demon remembering the elation of flying. But, Crowley hadn’t got the answer he was looking for. So, he asked another question.

“Have you ever been in love, angel?” the demon asked, and Aziraphales cheeks reddened. Crowley found himself smiling fondly at the angel in front of him.

“Well, I suppose I must do. I am a being of love, I feel love for all of God’s creation” he answered simply, and Crowley shook his head softly. 

“Not the answer I was looking for. Feeling love for all of God’s creation, because you ‘must do’ is not the same as being in love with someone” he said, and the angels cheeks reddened even further. 

“Well, in that case, I have. It was someone I had known for a very long time” the angel replied, looking as if he did not want many prying questions about the persons identity. Crowley knew better than to ask.

“What did that feel like? Being in love, not just feeling residual love?” asked the demon, and Aziraphale smiled fondly, clearly feeling those emotions once more.

“It felt like everything I described, and more. I could not look at them without my heart beating so hard, I was shocked they could not hear it. I felt alone in the world, whenever we were not together, and I would count the hours until we would be together again. I felt as though I would do anything they asked of me. I would do anything and everything in my power to keep them out of harm's way. I would burn heaven to the ground, freeze hell to ice, even wage war against the Almighty, and Satan himself. As an angel, I’m meant only to feel residual love, not be in love. But for them, I would have fought every arcangel. I would have gladly died for them” Aziraphale began, and Crowley was enraptured in the passion behind the angels voice, the love in the angels eyes, as he stared off into the distance. Crowley longed for those eyes to look at him like that. 

“I was not meant to fall in love, but when I knew I had, I was terrified, but I also felt more brave than I had ever felt. I had known this person for so long, I can’t think of a time I wasn’t in love with them. I saw sides of them that nobody else ever had the pleasure to see, and I relished in that fact. I could stare at them for hours, and never need to look anywhere else. I could listen to them talk until I faded from existence, and I would never feel bored. I loved everything they did, everything they said, everything they were” Aziraphale finished, and the love in his eyes had painfully morphed into sadness, as though the memory filled him with as much joy as it did sorrow. Crowley felt something so familiar in what Aziraphale was saying, and found himself unable to stop from asking a question he never would have asked, had he been fully sober.

“Whatever became of this person?” Aziraphale turned, and looked sadly at Crowley, bright blue eyes, meeting yellow, and Crowley found he could not look away.

“I never told them, and they never told me. We, much like ‘one of Shakespeare's gloomy ones’, as you so imaginatively called it, were a forbidden love. I, obviously, am not supposed to feel love, and they came from a noble, and very strict family, who would not have approved. They wanted the person to marry into a wealthy family, not a poor bookkeeper. I still hold them in my heart. They were so gracious, so understanding. They had an image their family forced them to keep up, to save appearances. But, I saw the tenderness in them, I was the only person to ever see the smile that reached their eyes. I was the only one to hear the full laugh they gave, when something truly amused them, not the laugh they faked. I saw them whisper encouraging things to the plants in the garden, when they thought nobody was around. I saw them be kind to the local children. I saw the way they suffered under their family’s tyrannical rule. I was the only one who saw the true person they were inside. They themselves couldn’t see it. They thought they were nothing but what their family had made them; a cruel, unfeeling, uncaring person. I do miss them dreadfully sometimes” Aziraphale finished, and Crowley felt his heart stop, as he realized 2 things. 

The first thing he realized, was the reason Aziraphale’s description of being in love had felt so familiar. It was because everything the angel had said, Crowley had felt, for him. He would gladly, willingly, face off every angel and every demon, to keep Aziraphale safe. He could listen to him for hours, and never tire. He would do anything Aziraphale asked him, and more, never once thinking twice. He would gladly give his life, to save his angel.

The second thing he realized, was the person Aziraphale loved, was him. Demons might be known for being slower than Angels, when it came to understanding a joke, or getting the point of a story, but they were not stupid. If you told most demons a story about them, but didn’t say so explicitly, almost every single one would realize who you were talking about, in the end, and either kill you, or laugh. (And it was usually the former) And, after more time spent on Earth, than in Hell, Crowley was not most demons. He had indeed gone Native, just as Lord Beelzebub had said, months ago, even if they were inadvertently referring to Aziraphale. Crowley was the most human-like demon in Hell. And while humans were not the most evolved creatures to exist, they were undoubtedly smart.

Crowley had picked up on Aziraphale’s hint, as soon as the angel mentioned whispering encouraging things to his house plants. He’d had his suspicions, as the angels story went on, but that was what finally tipped him off. Which meant one thing. Aziraphale felt that way for him. Aziraphale would willingly fight God and Satan, to keep him safe. Aziraphale would gladly die for him. 

Aziraphale  _ loved  _ him. No, Aziraphale didn’t just love him, because Aziraphale loved all of God’s creations. No, Aziraphale was  _ in love _ with him. A demon. One of the fallen. An angel who asked too many questions, and was banished from heaven in a ball of light and fire. A ball that scorched his white wings black, and gave him the eyes of a snake. He, who was supposed to be fomenting dissent and discord everywhere he went. Of all the people Aziraphale could have been in love with, it was him?

“--owley? Crowley, dear boy, are you alright?” he heard, and he snapped back to his senses. His mind was racing, and his emotions were off the charts. Somehow, without meaning to, or trying, he seemed to have sobered up. The bookshop was too small for him, he no longer felt relaxed. The comforting feeling of the space was replaced with one of panic, but not out of fear, out of love, and realization. 

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine angel. Just remembered, there was something I had to go do, and I best be popping off, before I forget again. Thank you for dinner, and the drinks, and the conversation. I’ll see you tomorrow, for our weekly visit to Tadfield” the demon said, rushing to his feet, grabbing his glasses from the table, and quickly placing them on his face, as he started for the front door. Aziraphale watched him with mild fascination, curiosity, and worry flashing across his face.

“Is everything alright, dear?” the angel asked, standing up, and approaching the demon slowly. Crowley opened the door, and seemed to be inching away from Aziraphale.

“Yes, just, in a hurry to do this before the shop closes. I’m absolutely tickety-boo. See you tomorrow, angel. Love you!” and with that, the demon walked out of the shop, and closed the door behind him, realizing too late, what he had said to the angel, knowing he both meant it, and could not take it back. The memory of admitting his love for the angel, followed him all the way home, and kept him from sleeping all night. At least he knew the feeling was mutual.


End file.
